My Name is Tommy Queen
by TheMysteryOwl
Summary: Thomas Robert Queen is twelve years old. Two years ago, he was the victim of a freakish car accident that left him unable to walk. Now, after finding out his dad is the Green Arrow, he must face the fact that he can never take to the streets; but that doesn't stop him from trying to find the person who took his legs. Future fic.
1. Discovery

How many secrets do people keep from their kids? Santa Clause. Easter Bunny. Tooth Fairy. Think about it. Most parents don't even tell them the truth eventually. They find out from their friends, or worse: they catch their parents in the act of lying. Wrapping presents. Drinking Santa's milk. Placing the dollar under the pillow.

But I never expected this.

My name is Tommy Queen. I am twelve years old, going on thirteen. I live in Starling City. My mom's the CEO at Smoak-Queen Consolidated. My Dad? Well, I just found out that he's the Green Arrow.

First, some background. Two years ago I went for a drive with my dad. I forgot where we were going, but that doesn't matter. What matters is where I ended up. Out of nowhere, a car came and T-boned us. My dad was fine, but I wasn't.

I wasn't awake much for a while after that, but the first time, my parents were there. And when you're ten, and you see your parents crying, your _dad_ crying, it changes you.

Here's the thing: my spine was damaged, badly. They weren't sure if I was going to make it, but Mom was determined. She had me transferred to Central City, where I got injected with Uncle Ray's nanobots. Apparently it was the same stuff that saved Starling from the Alpha-Omega virus. They saved my life, too, but not my legs. I still go every few months to try to get feeling back into them, but we've had no luck yet.

That didn't tip me off right away, though, surprisingly. I should have figured it out a long time ago. Sometimes my dad missed my basketball games for no reason, before the accident. Or he'd have to take off during dinner, or the middle of the day, or in the middle of the night. Now that I think of it, he's run off for no reason a LOT, and as long as I can remember, he's had to call Aunt Thea or my Babysitter, Sarah. And now that I think of it, every time that happens, the vigilante appears on TV.

And sometimes, when Mom comes home, she goes into the computer room and locks the door. She'll be in there for hours on end, and won't let me come in. I've assumed she's just doing CEO stuff, until today: Dad got a call and ran off during dinner, and Mom locked herself in at the same time. Eating dinner alone, I was finally suspicious.

It's hard to evesdrop in a wheelchair. You can't exactly put your ear against the door without knocking yourself over, and everyone knows the glass doesn't work. So I got out of the wheelchair.

Well, my mom's a hacker. It was kind of fuzzy but I'm pretty sure she hacked into the city cameras to spot some guy named Malcom Merlyn. Wait. Aren't I named after a Tommy Merlyn?

Then I heard it.

"Hello Oliver. Or should I say, Green Arrow."

"Why are you here? I thought we had a deal." That was definitely Dad's voice.

"What, you mean the truce not to cause problems in Starling City? Well, I'm not causing any problems. Hello, Felicity, I know you're on the other end."

"Shut up, Malcom," Mom snapped sourly.

"How's your son? He's what, three, four, now?"

"He's twelve, and that's none of your business."

Wow, go mom.

"I would think you'd show more respect to the father of the man you named him after. Well, I'm sorry I can't chat with you, but I need to speak with Oliver. Alone."

"Wait-!" The static from the call turned off abruptly. She pounded on the desk, and then it was quiet.

Oh no. She was coming through the door. I had to get back into that wheel chair. I scooted over, dragging my useless legs along with me, and tried to lift myself back into it. I promise, I was SO CLOSE, when the chair shot backwards from under me and the footrest nailed me in the head.

"Ouch!"

And this is when Mom decides to slam the door open, agitated. She turns to me, and stops, the expression wiping off her face. "Thomas." I don't like when she uses my actual first name. When I'm in trouble, it's Thomas Robert Queen, but when it's just Thomas it means she's worried. "How much of that did you hear?"

I rubbed my scalp and sat up slowly. "Enough."

"Oh." She stopped a second, looking towards the front door, then back at me. With nothing else to say, she said, "Frack."

Frack is right.


	2. Talking with Mom

Mom is the smartest person I know. No, I'm not just saying that; she's literally a genius. I think she graduated from MIT or something at nineteen. I mean, she's probably up there with Einstein or da Vinci, but that doesn't change the fact that she's my mom and she can't take me seriously sometimes. Plus works faster than her mouth.

"Look, I know you're mad…" she began, but I cut her off.

"I'm not mad, just really, really confused." It wasn't a lie, really. Maybe I was a little mad that I found out this way, but I mostly wanted information.

"We were going to tell you when you turned thirteen…?" Mom suggested, but trailed off.

"Thirteen?"

"Well, it was ten before that, but we didn't want to mess up your birthday and then there was the whole thing with the metahumans and then the accident happened…" she rambled, doing that thing where she fidgets her fingers. I didn't even realize that I was doing it, too. "Look. I was hoping your father AND I would tell you."

"Right. When you're on your death bed?" I didn't mean to let that slip; it just kind of happened. I do that sometimes, I say things I don't really mean to say and I regret it right away.

Mom's eyes narrowed. "Don't sass me, young man." She poked my glasses onto my face, which had been hanging off my nose before, and gave me a long, thoughtful look. I wasn't sure whether to stare back or look away for those awkward few seconds, until, finally, she sighed. "We were just… afraid."

"Of what? I thought heroes weren't supposed to be afraid of anything."

"Well, that's a myth. They're afraid of a lot of things." Mom held my chin with her forefinger, and tipped my head up so she could look into my eyes. "Like the ones they love dying because of their own actions. No, it's not fair; trust me, I know better than anyone."

Suddenly, as Mom kissed my forehead, I felt really bad, and my ears got hot. Maybe I should have just waited, and kept my nose out of my parents' business. "We'll talk about this in the morning, if… when your dad gets home." Checking her watch again, she walked out and back to the computer room, where she would probably spend the rest of the night.

That's when I realized, she was a hero too. And she was just as afraid as any of them, out there in their masks and hoods. _Afraid of the ones they love dying because of their own actions…_

She was talking about me.

Normally, I hate pity. I mean, she rarely shows it anymore, now that I can at least get around by myself in a wheelchair. But like I said before: she is my mom, and though she's a super technical genius, her mom does show sometimes.

But that's not what bothers me.

Auntie Laurel never found the guy who took my legs. He hit us and ran. We just assumed it was a drunk driver, but maybe he didn't run because he felt guilty… maybe it wasn't an accident. Maybe he was after the Green Arrow.


	3. The Flash

**_Hey guys, I'm going to try to update this on Wednesdays from now on in the spirit of Arrow. Posting a day early today though, because I may not be able to post tomorrow :) Thanks for your interest!_**

You know, before the accident, I was a huge fan of The Flash. How cool would it be to be able to run through walls and scale buildings in a heartbeat, without breaking a sweat? In fact, my nickname in Basketball Club was The Flash, because when they put me on offense I would try to outrun the defense. It's too bad I had no aim, or else that nickname might have been a little less sarcastic.

That didn't stop me from being the biggest Flash fan ever. I painted my walls red, got a Flash bedspread, collected action figures, and put up posters. My dad used to shake his head and say, "Really? The Flash?" I guess he wanted Green Arrow posters.

That's okay though: I hate The Flash now.

OK, I don't ACTUALLY hate him. But imagine being me, and losing the ability to walk. Then, imagine finally coming home and being wheeled into a room plastered with a guy who RUNS for a living. The Flash was mocking me.

I wouldn't go back in there until they tore all the posters down and replaced the bedspread. The action figures are in some drawer; at least, the ones I didn't break in half. We haven't repainted the walls, yet. On bad days, the red is my worst nightmare. I hope we do it soon- I think green would be pretty cool.


	4. Talking with Dad

Dad did come home early that morning, and somehow woke up in time to make me pancakes and pour me a glass of OJ. He made me breakfast in the morning, considering that I couldn't reach a lot of ingredients, but he usually saved pancakes for a special occasion, or if I was feeling really down. Well, it was an average Thursday morning before my homeschool tutor came over, and I feel fine, I guess. Mom must have told him I knew.

"What's the special occasion?" I asked nonchalantly.

"The truth." Dad sat down and handed me some syrup. He had a Band-Aid on his cheek: from shaving or from fighting?

"Oh." Ah, Dad, always one to cut to the chase. He's always been a little easier to talk to than Mom. "You're a superhero."

"Well." Dad smiled. "'Super' is kind of overkill, don't you think?"

"Not really," I said. "A hero can be any person, but a superhero has a mask and a secret identity and stuff."

"There's more to it than that." He ruffled my hair. "But that's not all I've been keeping from you. From here on out, you're old enough to know the truth."

"So what else do you have to tell me? That's a pretty big secret."

"This entire family is full of really big secrets." Dad became serious again, and stared at me from across the table. "You have to promise me that you'll never let this slip. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Ok. So the Green Arrow has some partners."

"Yeah. The Black Canary and Speedy." I didn't even think to ask about them- although they each had their own identities, they often worked with the Green Arrow. I think I saw Speedy once, in town square. Red isn't the best camouflage in broad daylight.

"Yep. Well those two are your Aunt Laurel and Aunt Thea."

"Really?" I thought a moment. Aunt Laurel, I could believe: as District Attorney, she was a fierce lawyer, at least from what I'd heard. But Aunt Thea? She runs a club down in the Glades, loves shopping, and is the only person who calls Dad "Ollie." She babysat me all the time while I was healing up, sometimes while my Dad was out. For some reason, it just doesn't occur to me that she could go around shooting people with Arrows. "Isn't Aunt Thea about to have a baby though?"

"Yeah, well, our jobs aren't 24/7." He poured me another glass of OJ. "Don't you think your mom and I took days off when you were born?"

"I kind of doubt it."

Dad shrugged. "You're kind of right. That's another long story I'll tell you later. But your Aunt Thea, she's good. Better than me… Sometimes." I laughed. "Being girly and leading a normal life doesn't make her any less tough. A baby won't keep her off the streets for too long, but I think Roy's enjoying prowling around in Starling again."

"Uncle Roy, too?" Roy was constantly on business trips, and though he wasn't exactly married to Thea, he might as well have been- They had been together longer than my mom and dad!

"He's not really a business man. The world thinks he's dead. He's actually a hero called Arsenal, and travels the world with a group called the Titans. Sometimes he likes to put on his old uniform."

"So why didn't you just tell me all of this in the first place?"

"I don't know, sport," Dad said, scratching his chin. "You think I would have learned by now, huh? Lying never protected anyone." He got up and took my plate. "But a little kid running through the foundry's kind of dangerous, don't you think?"

"You have a foundry?"


	5. In the Foundry

**_Hey, thanks for all the people who follow this regularly now :) I would post more often, but I thought it would be better to have a consistent chapter out every week than a bunch of jumble every few months. This chapter isn't very well edited, so please let me know if I made a mistake(such as misspelling Sara's name)._**

"Under Smoak-Queen consolidated? Right in the middle of Starling?" We parked in front of the lobby, since we had a special pass. Mom never showed me the foundry on bring-your-kid-to-work day.

"Well," Dad said, getting out of the car, "It used to be in the Glades, back before too many people discovered it. Nobody would expect it to be in the heart of the city."

"How do you keep it from the workers?"

"I have my ways. And your mom. And some friends from Star Labs." He opened up the trunk and unfolded my wheelchair.

"Star Labs has everything."

"They sure do." He started to open the car door, and gave me an odd look. "Tommy, you're going to have to let go of the handle if we want to see the foundry before your mom notices."

It was then I realized that my hands were clenched so tightly around the handle that my knuckles were turning white. I guess I haven't really gotten over my intense fear of cars, yet. I let go. "Sorry."

"It's ok, kid." He opened the car door and lifted me into the wheelchair. "You're going to be too big for this soon. We'll have to make it more wheel-chair accessible."

"Or the nanobots will start to work," I suggested lightly, trying to keep the hopelessness out of my voice. Even my parents were planning for the plausible future that I would be wheelchair bound for the remainder of my life. I was a cripple.

"Yeah," Dad replied weakly.

He rolled me through the halls, and we were greeted as "Mr. Queen and Mr. Queen" by a couple of people in the lobby. Of course everyone knew my dad- he was the husband of the CEO, who wouldn't know Oliver Queen? Not to mention that he was one of the town's most famous rich kids when he came back from an Island. We walked toward an ordinary, gold elevator, and the doors slid shut behind us.

"Nobody but us. This will make things a lot easier." Dad walked up to the glaring yellow lights. "The maximum capacity in this elevator is only eight for a reason. So I can have a nine number code." He punched them in, and instead of going up, we went down.

I don't know how far underground we were. Probably a couple stories. The elevator opened up to an empty room: it looked like a storage room. He rolled me up to a wall and pressed gently on a single brick. A pad came up and asked for a code, which he entered. "Can't be too careful," he remarked as the wall opened up. I nodded slightly, my mind somewhere else completely.

I wasn't sure what to expect when the lights turned on, but it wasn't this. Below the florescent glow was a sleek black floor, topped with sleek tables and several computer monitors. In one corner was several glass cases, holding the uniforms of the Black Canary, Green Arrow, and Speedy. In another was a training center- a punching bag, a pull-up bar, a target. I don't understand how my dad has the will to ever leave this place.

To my left, I noticed a hallway. I wondered what was through it.

"Cool, huh?" My dad beckoned me over with a wave of his hand. I wheeled myself to the training area, and Dad dragged a stool over. He lifted me on, and pulled a bow and arrow out of a drawer.

"Woah. Really?" I looked up at him, grinning like an idiot, and carefully took the bow from him.

"Ok, so hold it in your left hand, and outstretch your arm with the string by the inside of your elbow. Yeah, like that. Now here's the arrow." My heart was racing now, and he slid it into my right hand until my fingers held onto the feathers. "Hold the fletching, or the feather part, with your two fingers, hold it back against the bow. Think about the path you want it to take and-"

Dad's phone rang. I lowered the bow, the moment ruined by the sudden interruption. He picked it up, and his face filled with dread.

"Your mom has access to 24-hour surveillance. And a new thing, she gets alerted when someone enters. I forgot about that." He finally answered, and took a deep breath. "Hi sweetie!" he said as nicely as possible.

"PUT. THE BOW. DOWN." I could hear Mom's voice on the other line clearly. I looked up at the nearest camera I could find, smiling a little more hopefully than I should have. "I WILL GO DOWN THERE." I immediately dropped the bow and my wicked grin.

"Come on, City, we're just having some fun," Dad protested.

As I heard my mom begin to go off about how just because I knew now didn't mean I could have access to his life, or that I could get hurt, or some other junk I've heard before in different context. As they began to argue over my safety, I awkwardly hoisted my way onto my wheelchair and began to explore.

First I got a closer look at their uniforms. I never knew the Black Canary wore a wig! Well, I guess I should have figured it out when I heard that she was Auntie Laurel. I touched the glass on the Green Arrow, and studied it, from the leather body right down to the cotton hood. Interesting that it's cotton- it's not very water proof.

How many people got to see these uniforms up close?

How many people were related to a super hero?

How did people get like this?

I shouldn't have allowed myself to daydream, or hold that bow and arrow. I could never do what my dad does, or the Flash, and I don't have my mom's brains, or Auntie Laurel's argumentative skills. I can't even play basketball anymore… I can't even be an everyday hero.

I backed up, and rolled over down the hallway. Most of the doors were locked: I wondered why. Maybe I wasn't supposed to be here, and my dad, or, worse, my mom, was on their way to come and yell at me. But one of the doors wasn't locked. I opened it.

Inside was the car that crashed into us two years ago. A white pick-up truck, doors pulled off and leather seats dug up, as if someone was looking for something. How the heck they get it down there? And what were they looking for? Something about the accident?

Unless my suspicions were correct: it wasn't an accident.

You can only stare at the physical item that ruined your life for so long before someone calls you back again. "Tommy?"

I rolled out of the room, shut off the lights, and closed the door. Dad came into the hallway, just in time. "You didn't go into any of those rooms, did you?"

I could have confronted him now, about who did this to me. "No. They were all locked."


	6. Lian Moira Harper

"You know, Tommy, most boys your age are asleep at 12 AM."

I looked up from my Ipad, where I was researching the Green Arrow. I had gone back all the way to the beginning, when the revolutionary earthquake in the Glades happened, trying to look for answers of whether one of my dad's old enemies made me the way I am. I turned it off quickly, suddenly self-conscious of Aunt Laurel standing over me.

"Is the baby here yet?" I asked. I'd been here since eight o'clock, and with Sara away at college, her sister Dahlia too busy with tests the next day(as usual), and Aunt Thea obviously having her baby, I couldn't stay at home overnight.

"It'll be a long time. You can sleep." Aunt Laurel sat herself down into a chair and sighed. "That's what I'm doing."

"I can't sleep in a wheelchair," I protested. I paused a moment. "… or in a hospital." I've spent too long in one. This place was both my birthplace and my death bead. Except, only about half of me died.

"Oh." Aunt Laurel was quiet for a minute. "What are you reading?"

"Just some stuff on… um… the Flash," I lied, straight to her face. I should have known better.

"So I take it your dad told you."

"I- What?" I jumped, and tried my most incredulous face possible.

Laurel laughed. "I'm a lawyer, and you're no better than Oliver at lying."

"Oh… uhhh…" I turned the iPad back on and continued reading old news reports, trying to make the silence meaningful.

"That's from the very beginning, you know," she commented, eyeing at the screen where I read about Count Vertigo, some old drug dealer. He was found dead, having fallen from the twentieth story of a building with arrows in his neck. "I didn't even know Oliver's secret yet."

"He kept it from you, too?"

"Well, that was before the Black Canary. But yeah, he did. Did you know that he broke his no-kill oath to save your mom?"

"Really?" That sounds pretty corny, if you ask me. But it also scared me a little bit; my dad has killed people. With his own two hands. I opened my mouth to ask her about the accident, but figured she would realize I saw the truck.

"He would do anything to protect the ones he loves." Aunt Laurel stood up, and stretched. "These chairs aren't very comfortable. I'm going to go see about getting some coffee. Would you like a hot chocolate?"

"Yes please," I said. But I fell asleep reading before she could get back.

It was about 9 AM when I woke up. A blanket had been thrown over me, my glasses taken off and put onto the table beside me. Before I could scoot up to put them on, Mom came up and kissed the top of my head, handing them to me.

"Here's the hot chocolate Aunt Laurel got you last night," she said. "It was microwaved."

"Thanks." I took the hot chocolate gratefully. "Where's dad?"

"With Aunt Thea. Do you want to meet your baby cousin?"

Mom rolled me into the room, and I was met by the chatter of my parent's friends: Uncle Dig and Aunt Lyla (Sarah's parents), Aunt Laurel, Walter, Uncle Roy. It occurred to me that these people must have been there when I was born: my parents and Aunt Thea don't have a lot of family. My only grandma lives in Los Vegas, and she's on my mom's side. That's why I have so many "aunts" and "uncles" who aren't really related to me. They're all family.

Uncle Diggle was holding the baby. He grinned when he saw me. "Hey, Tommy. It's your turn to hold her."

"Wait! I- Uh…"

"Make sure you hold her head up." He plopped her into my arms, and I frantically took his advice. She was a lot smaller than I had expected… I was afraid I was going to break her, or drop her. Her little green eyes blinked open for a moment, then closed again.

"Meet Lian Moira Harper," Uncle Roy announced, beaming.

"You'll be the one babysitting, soon," Thea told me, sounding exhausted despite the good humor in her voice. The room hummed with laughter and optimism.

I could have sworn I saw a man outside the window looking in, but when I checked again, he vanished.


	7. Basketball

**_Holy crap guys I'm so sorry for the delay. I've been doing Camp NaNoWriMo. I'll be trying to update more, maybe 2-3 times a week until the end of August when I have to go back to school and I'll be REALLY busy. Thanks for reading!_**

Sorry, Uncle Roy, but my favorite Uncle has to be Diggle. He's the guy who takes me to amusement parks and baseball games, and before the accident, he used to take me to laser tag. But there's one thing that he did the other day that really makes him stand out.

So I was just sitting there, doing some math homework that my tutor left me, and kind of doing some research on my dad, too. Also I was texting my best friend, Zack, being one of those rare moments when he's not at soccer practice or doing homework. You could say that I'm pretty good at multitasking. But, anyway, my parents were out for a few hours and I was alone.

That's when Uncle Diggle showed up, knocking on the door. I broke the "never answer the front door" rule when I saw his dark figure through the window.

"Hey Uncle Dig!"

"Hey, Tom! I thought I'd take you out somewhere while your parents are gone."

"But-"

Uncle Dig cut me off. "You can finish your homework when you get home. But we're going to be late!"

"Late? Late for what?"

"You'll see."

"Where's Dahlia? Didn't she want to come too?"

"She's busy," Uncle Dig explained. "She has AP tests coming up next week. Plus, this is more of just a Tommy thing." He must have seen the worried look on my face, because then he said, "Don't worry, I already told your parents." He plopped a hat on my head and rolled me down the driveway and into his car.

"Where are we going exactly?" I tried again.

"To the rec center," he finally explained, vaguely. I waited for him to explain further, but he offered no more insight.

I hadn't been to the rec center since before the accident. It's where I used to play basketball; where they used to call me The Flash. Most of the kids I remember from that class probably moved on to after-school basketball; in a couple years, they will be in high school. And then there's me. I guess we all part in our different directions.

That was probably why I was surprised to see two other people in wheelchairs just like mine when we pulled into the parking lot.

I didn't think much of it at first, but as I loosened my grip on Uncle Dig's car, I became a little more skeptical. Was he taking me to some support group? Why would they have a support group at the rec center?

Instead, he wheeled me towards the gym. That's where the other two kids were headed, anyway. Oh man, this WAS some support group, wasn't it? I looked up at Uncle Dig, with a face that said, _I trusted you! And you brought me here?_

Instead, when the double, I heard basketballs. Basketballs! I forgot how much I missed that sound, the thick _pum, pum, pum_ of rubber against laminated wood. I could already smell the sweat and the rubber in the foyer, and I almost felt like I could just get out of my wheelchair and walk over for a game.

And then, I saw it. Nine other kids, boys and girls between ten and seventeen, dribbled a few basketballs and passed them to each other- in their wheelchairs! They had thin legs, one leg, stubs, you name it- and they were all practicing basketball. "Hey! Keegan!" Uncle Dig called, and a man turned around in his own wheelchair. He wore a T-shirt that said U.S. Army, and his legs were only stubs.

"Diggle! My man! It's been too long." Uncle Dig laughed and bent down to give Keegan a hug. Then, Keegan "Is this my tenth player?"

"Sure is. Meet Thomas Queen, my nephew."

He grinned and leaned over to shake my hand. "Nice to meet you, Thomas. Hey, Taylor!" Taylor tossed her basketball back, and turned to look. "Grab this kid a Jersey."

"Nice to meet you too," I replied, overly star-struck by seeing kids just like me playing a game I thought impossible.

"Well, let's go ahead and get you out there." Taylor threw me a Jersey, a green one that said "Starling City All Stars." I tried to repress a smile as Uncle Dig gave me a little push onto the gym floor.

"Since we have a new kid, let's once again go over the rules of Wheelchair Basketball. Rule one, the dribble. In normal basketball, you're supposed to keep the ball dribbling, or else it's a travel foul. You may keep the ball dribbling, like traditionally done, and you are also permitted two pushes on your wheels before you must pass or let the ball hit the ground. Understood?"

"Yessir," the other nine said and I echoed.

"For those of you who still have minor use of your legs, you may not use that to your ability. You must be seated at all times, and if someone falls, the game goes on unless someone is injured. Other than that it's very straightforward and similar to traditional basketball. Understood?"

"Yessir."

I have to admit, the game was… messy. The program was pretty new, so kids were fumbling just as much from me. Have you ever tried to make a basket while sitting? Kind of weird to aim. But, I have to admit, it was fun to be doing something for the first time in two years, _and_ to be on the same court that I used to practice on as a kid.

With my face flushed and tired by the end, I wheeled over to get a drink of water. Taylor, who gave me my jersey earlier, followed. "Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"So, you weren't born this way. What happened?" She asked this with no filter, unlike my mom's coworkers who tended to bashfully ask my parents and avoid eye contact with me. It was refreshing.

"Nasty car accident. Spinal damage. You?"

"Nah, I was born this way," she sighed. "Lost a nasty battle with my umbilical cord." I noticed that she only had one stump, but the other was a fully grown leg. "I have to keep my other leg strapped down, so I don't accidentally kick people."

"How did you know I wasn't born this way?" I asked.

"You've obviously played basketball before. Real basketball. I saw the way you aim, like you're used to doing it standing up. I've been here since it opened, since, you know, they don't really offer peg leg basketball. But I come from a family of basketball players and as long as I could still hold one they were happy."

"Oh. Well, nice meeting you, but my Uncle Dig's calling me. My name's Tommy, by the way."


	8. Nanobots

_**I have about 7 chapters left after this. Hope you enjoy!**_

I HATE PT. Ok, it's not really PT, but it's nanobot therapy at Star Labs in central city. I mean, I love central city because I get to see Uncle Barry and Uncle Ray, and used to love it more when I was obsessed with The Flash. But I don't think ANYBODY likes getting two shots in their spine, or trying to stay afloat in water without use of your legs.

Should I really call it PT when I'm not moving my legs?

Anyway, we always have to stay there for the weekend every couple of months, and though Mom schedules important meetings in central city around this time, Dad tries to make the best of it. We go to the best pizza places, and hang out with Uncle Barry, and go to see the Hero's Museum, which I now see in an entirely different way.

We walked into Star Labs, met by Uncle Barry. He gave us both a big bear hug. I love Uncle Barry. I wonder if he knows my dad's secret? I mean, I asked him if he knew The Flash once, and he just laughed at me. Maybe not.

"Hey, Oliver! Hey, Tommy!"

"Hey, Uncle Barry!"

"Dude, Tommy, check this out. Cisco had some free time on his hands." He shoved a remote control in my hand. "Press the red button."

"Aren't you not supposed to press the red button?" I asked, skeptical. He loved to show me the newest tech that Star Labs was coming up with. Luckily, none of those things were particle accelerators.

"This isn't a cartoon, Tommy! Just press it."

I pressed the button, and out came a little helicopter buzzing around the lab. It hovered down and sat on my swim trunks. I smiled. "Cool. Doesn't Cisco have a life?"

"Nope. Well, it's time for your Nanobot therapy. Cisco tweaked them, so maybe we'll begin to see some improvement."

 _I doubt it,_ I thought, but wheeled myself into the next lab over, beginning to take off my T-shirt. Behind me I overheard Dad and Uncle Barry talking.

"So how are the twins?"

"Oh they're… rambunctious, as toddlers usually are. You know, genetics are really really weird…"

Nobody was in the lab yet when I showed up ready to go. I looked at the table, covered by a sterile sheet and a small, uncomfortable pillow. I shuddered. I thought I would be used to being in Star Labs by now and thinking about the big needle. It has a sort of dullness to it, a sort of hopelessness, yes. But I also hate needles.

"Hi Tommy," Dr. Snow said, pulling on some rubber gloves. "Would you mind if I lifted you onto the scale?"

I nodded, and she helped me onto the scale. It was one that I didn't have to stand up on. Dr. Snow noted that I have gained weight without gaining BMI(which is good, because it means my growth isn't completely stunted). Then, she put me on the table.

She did the normal check-up, my heart and my breathing and ears and all that. She tested out the nerves in my knees, and my legs did not react. As usual.

"Dr. Snow, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Tommy," She said absent mindedly, wiping antiseptic where they were going to inject the nanobots. It was cold to the touch, but I knew it was nothing compared to the needle that was coming.

"What is Star Labs, exactly?"

Dr. Snow laughed. "What do you mean, Tommy?" She lay me face down on the table.

"I mean, you don't have any patients besides me, it seems like, and Dad's never really told me what you do- GAH!" I saw stars for a moment as the special needle pushed into my skin and pulled out the dead nanobots from last session.

"Well, we have a defective particle accelerator. It's mostly just a research lab. You're our subject."

"That's great," I said, winded.

"Ray swears these will work. I'm not so sure. If it doesn't, maybe some experimental stem cell therapy…"

"What are stem cells?" I tried to ask, but was silenced by another needle pushing into my spine. I promised I wouldn't cry out this time…

"Oh, that's a lesson for another time. Ready to swim?" She asked, smiling.

"No." I HATED water. I never really learned to swim, and this wasn't really swimming, either. This was just a shoulder-height pool that pushed a current under my legs. I even had a net to hang onto. Dr. Snow carefully dropped me on the edge to let me go in at my own time. "Where's Uncle Ray?"

"He's… busy. You'll have to do it alone this time." She stuck some wires to my skin so that she could check my vitals while I swam. Sometimes I wondered how safe this was in water.

When I slid in, I could only feel the current trying to pull my body under. I gripped the net. I hate water.

After a half hour of swimming, it got cut short by Dr. Snow very quickly pulling me out of the lap pool with the help of my dad. Why was dad in here?

"Ray didn't SERIOUSLY," Dad exclaimed, placing me onto the examination table. "I did NOT agree to this!"

"Well I'm sorry I didn't know!" Dr. Snow snapped.

"What? What did Uncle Ray do?"

"Hold on, Ray," Dr. Snow was saying, pulling out another big, sterile needle. This one looked different than the others, though.

"Hey, wait a minute!" I was only supposed to get two injections today! I did _not_ sign up for this.

Without stopping to explain, Dr. Snow put the needle into my sore back, and this time, I DID cry out. Instead of injecting or pulling, though, she pressed a button on the syringe and pulled it out. She emptied the contents into the pitri dish, sprayed water on it with a pipet, and in a few seconds Uncle Ray was smirking at me through the Atom suit.

"Sorry, sport. I ran out of oxygen sooner than I thought."

"Uncle Ray is the ATOM?" I sat up, rubbing my sore back. "The Atom was in my SPINE?"

"Yup. Don't worry, the nanobots are still in you, they don't turn on their magnetism until they become inactive." The suit opened up and out came Uncle Ray in a jumpsuit.

"Uncle Ray is…"

"Sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Dad said, scratching the stubble on his chin. "Didn't come up."

I was too shocked not to forgive him.

Uncle Ray came up and hugged me. "Now how bout we go talk about this over pizza?"


	9. Babysitting

"They'll be fine!" Aunt Thea exclaimed, whacking Uncle Roy lovingly in the shoulder and doing that weird shrug that she did while shaking her head and rolling her eyes. She wore a nice dress, which wasn't unusual, and Uncle Roy wore a poor-fitting suit and shifted in his oversized dress shoes. "It'll be good for him. Right, Tommy?"

I couldn't hide that I was shifting uncomfortably, too. "What? Yeah, fine."

She folded her arms. "We'll only be gone with your Mom and Dad a couple hours. Lian should sleep the whole time, she likes to stay quiet until about 3 AM."

"He doesn't even know CPR!" Uncle Roy murmured.

"Neither do you, Roy. Listen, if there's a medical emergency, the next door neighbor is an EMT and he should be home all night. Any other emergency, call us. The numbers are on the fridge. You can watch TV and eat anything from the kitchen."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You'll be fine."

Instead of watching TV, I turned on my tablet and connected up to the Wi-Fi. I, of course, searched Green Arrow cases. There was a whole website, an archive, of his enemies and achievements. There were also articles of the Arrow, which most people believed were the same person. I knew they were right. I'd seen both suits in the foundry.

His first big enemy, of course, was Malcom Merlyn, who set off an earthquake machine years before I was born. He was hungry for revenge on the Glades, where his wife and the mother of his son, Thomas Merlyn, was killed by some guy named Brick. Both Thomas and Malcom died in this struggle… or did he?

Mom had been talking to a guy named Malcom Merlyn the night that I found out about my dad. That was two years after my accident, though, and it sounded like they hadn't seen each other in a while. Maybe I wasn't looking in the right places. Maybe I should be looking at my dad's history…

 _Connor Hawke, son of Oliver Queen…_

Connor Hawke. I knew Connor, my half-brother. He was twelve years older than me, and came to my house until I was six. He didn't like me very much, and tried to ignore me the best he could. My dad tried to explain that he was jealous, but I still didn't understand. My parents have had to bail him out of jail a couple of times, in response to his mom's pleas. I try not to think about Connor.

I kept digging until, finally, my eyes drooped and I couldn't read the words on the page anymore. Aunt Thea's couch was so comfortable…

I woke up to Lian's crying and immediately began to panic. She wasn't supposed to cry! I had no idea how to take care of babies. What if I had to change her diaper or feed her or something? I grabbed my phone and began to call Aunt Thea, lifting myself into my wheelchair.

I rolled into the room, phone in my hand, and looked at the crib. I saw a silhouette leaning over the crib and I dropped the phone.

"Hello? Tommy?" I heard quietly coming from the phone. "Tommy?"

I turned on the light, and there was a picture perfect, if not well aged, Malcom Merlyn standing over Lian's Crib with a bow and arrow pointed at me. My jaw dropped, and I froze.

"Hello, Thomas."

"G-get out of here!" I exclaimed, a weak argument from a kid in a wheelchair.

Malcom laughed put down the arrow, and picked up Lian. I didn't know what to do, but I heard the phone go quiet. They must have hung up, thought I'd called by mistake or something. I couldn't pick up my phone from where I was.

"Not very good manners towards the father of the man you were named after, Tommy."

"Don't call me T-Tommy." I stuttered, meaning to sound tougher than that.

"I'm just here to see Lian. I've been chasing Oliver all over trying to see her once. He won't even let me see my own granddaughter!"

"What? She's not your-"

He cut me off halfway through. "Oh, your father didn't tell you? Thea is Oliver's half-sister. It's a long story, really."

"You're lying."

"Why else do you think I'm here?" He hushed Lian, bouncing her up and down in his arms. "You know, I used to do this with Tommy, many years ago. He grew up so fast… and he was gone so fast. So nice of your father to make you his reminder."

"You!" I felt like I had just hit an epiphany. "You hit us with the truck that day!"

"No, no," Merlyn said, disgusted. "I'm not a good man but I would never harm a- Hello, Thea."

"Merlyn." I looked behind me and saw Aunt Thea above me, still in her dress pointing a red arrow at Merlyn's head. "You're going to put her down _right now,_ or I'm going to chase you all over Starling City, baby weight and all."

"Alright," Merlyn said, nodding and placing Lian back into her crib. He lifted his hands. "Excuse me for laying eyes on my own grandchild."

"Not this one nor any other. GET OUT!"

And just like that, he was gone.

Thea drove me back home and I stared out the windshield. "So Merlyn's really your dad?"

"Biologically. I didn't know for years, and he didn't raise me, and biological is where it ends. He and my mom… your grandmother… I'll tell you when you're older."

"Ok."


End file.
